Willing Slave Unwilling Master Ch 04

Hey everyone. Sorry this took so long to post, I really struggled to find an editor. But thankfully the awesome MadamWhitewalker has stepped in and has a done a great job getting things turned around really quickly. I can't thank them enough.

Thanks everyone for your patience and enjoy chapter 4.

— — —

Rose

"Your lips taste of strawberries," Master says, pulling away from the kiss.

I nod, not giving his words a whole lot of attention as I shuffle forward in my chair, desperate to get back to kissing him. The feeling of need welling up in my belly is eerily similar to the first time I discovered I could make myself feel good with my fingers; I longed to do it almost every waking hour. I began begrudging my sisters for the first time in my life, sure that they took so long to fall asleep out of spite. Instinctively I make my face neutral as Master stands up, but if I could let my true feelings show I would be pouting.

"Relax," Master laughs. "Come on, I can think of more comfortable places to make out."

I'm not sure what 'making out' is, but I eagerly take his hand as he leads me down the view screen corridor, today showing a crystal blue sea breaking on a beautiful white beach. Do places like this really exist? Or is it just art like Mistress Abigail's paintings? We encounter several more distractions along the way - a statue I failed to notice the day before and Barnaby, who rubs himself against my bare leg. For some reason, feeling how soft his fur is makes him a lot less scary.

Despite all the interruptions, Master never displays any outward hint that he is displeased, he just watches me with the strangest smile on his face. "I can see how you ended up half throttled when my sister but you on a leash," he comments as I turn away from the latest painting.

"Yes, Master." I pause for a moment before continuing, "I don't like wearing a leash."

I have no idea what possessed me to add that little detail; I would never have told a warden that I didn't like something. A good girl likes what her owner tells her to like, it's as simple as that. Is this willful disobedience a sign that my mind is breaking? Or is it simply that Master isn't like a warden. He's sweet and kind, and, what's more, he's causing me to start acting on impulse rather than training. I don't know if that's a failure or not; perhaps in the hands of another owner it would be.

"No, I can imagine. What kind of things do you enjoy?"

"Cuddling," I answer at once.

"Ha, yeah, I guessed that one. And kissing?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

I nod, allowing Master to guide me into his room with his hand on the small of my back.

"Anything else?" he prompts, gesturing to the sofa.

"Drawing, Master," I reply, thinking of the dust doodles I loved to make on the floor of our cell with a smile. "And reading," I say, tucking my legs under myself as I sit down.

"Huh. Cool," he says, using the control panel beside the bed to open the windows and skylights.

"I'll have to dig out my sister's old art tablet," he says casually, sitting down beside me.

"Truly Master?" I ask, hardly able to contain my joy. Has there ever been a Lower Vil more fortunate than myself?

He nods, a grin splitting his face. "Can't have you being bored now can I?"

There's not an appropriate answer for that question so I stay silent, shifting over to cuddle against his side. I feel the soft brush of his lips on the top of my head and look up into his deep blue eyes. We pause for the space of a heartbeat before our lips meet once again, sending shivers shooting down my spine to the pit of my stomach.

Our kissing becomes more desperate. Master seems just as addicted to the wonderful sensation as I am. Has he done this with other girls? He must have, because he acts like someone with experience. For some reason, the thought of my owner touching another girl, even a human girl, fills me with the strangest sort of anger. I hold him closer, determined to prove that I above all others am worthy of his affections.

Master responds to the fresh intensity with vigor, placing a hand on my hip and positioning me so I'm straddling his lap. I place my palms on his chest for balance, while his fingers cup my face. I can feel his hardness poking me and an image of this position from one of my pleasure lessons flickers to the front of my mind, causing my cheeks to warm.

Much to my carefully hidden disappointment, Master breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed as red as mine.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks, kissing my chin.

"May I please you, Master?" I ask nervously.

"You do please me."

I bite my bottom lip, "No Master." I place my hand on the bulge between his legs. "May I

please

you Master? I've been trained."

He looks at me for a long moment; I can almost see the battle in his head reflected in his eyes. Finally, he gives me a stiff nod. With a mixture of excitement and anxiousness akin to my first day in Master's service, I slide down his legs until I am kneeling on the floor. My hands tremble slightly as I fumble with his jeans.

He grabs my hands, stopping me. "Only if you want to. I mean it, Rose."

"I want to Master," I say quickly, "I'm just afraid of disappointing you."

"You could never disappoint me," he says softly, before releasing my hands.

On my second attempt I manage to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them down with his help to reveal his black underwear, which seem barely able to contain his hard manhood. We're taught that men come in all sizes and to feign appreciation, if not eagerness, for those who fall short of a satisfying size. However, I can tell already there will be no need for me to feign anything.

With a new sense of excitement, I help him pull down his boxers, having to fight back a giggle as his cock pops up in front of me. I reach out to touch him, looking into his beautiful eyes for permission before allowing my fingertips to brush his flesh. I've only practiced this on plastic replicas before, so I'm surprised by how hot he is as I caress him with curious fingers.

I stop myself before I can get too lost in the new sensation. Now Is absolutely not the time to get distracted! I focus instead on my training and, making sure to maintain eye contact, I gently lick the underside of his head, causing him to let out a low moan.

Delighting in his reaction, I lean forward and suck his cock between my lips. The taste is odd, but not unpleasant. However, I'm barely halfway down his shaft and my mouth already feels full. Fighting down a wave of panic that I may not, in fact, be able to satisfy him, I begin to bob up and down, focusing with every fiber of my being on not scraping him with my teeth.

"Oh...fuck!" Master hisses, grabbing onto the material of the sofa behind his head in apparent ecstasy.

Spurred on, I take a deep breath and take him as deeply as I can, pausing for a moment before releasing him with a slurp. A string of pre-cum trails from my lip as I catch my breath. I let out a low moan of excitement as Master gently cups the back of my head, guiding me to his glistening member.

I melt into his control and, paradoxically, feel suddenly free. All the stress and worry of the last few days melts away as I become his, totally and completely. I offer no resistance as he guides my mouth to his cock, becoming an extension of his will, of his body. The feeling of completeness pools in the very lowest pit of my stomach to form a molten longing that I don't think my fingers could ever quench.

"I'm going to come soon," Master warns.

Preparing myself for what's to come, I make sure my lips are sealed around his member. I know from my lessons that Master will be very angry if I dribble, sputter, or otherwise disgrace myself, and I refuse to let that happen! My attentions draw a string of expletives from my owner's mouth and he pushes down a little more forcefully on the back of my head before pulling me away at what I'm sure is the last minute.

I stare at him, confused as the euphoric feeling of his control slips through my fingers like fine sand. Dropping my eyes, I fight back the bitter disappointment rising in my chest. I must have done something to displease him.

"M... Master?"

"Your turn," he grins, his cheeks glowing red.

Chuckling at my look of bewilderment he stands, pulling me up with him. Almost at once his lips meet mine. There's a brief moment of hesitation as he remembers where my mouth has been, but it passes quickly and soon he is pushing me in the direction of his bed while unbuttoning his shirt, his hungry mouth never leaving my lips.

Soon, the back of my legs are pressed against the edge of the bed and I have to throw my arms around him to stop myself from toppling over. He stops kissing me just long enough to pull off his shirt, letting it flutter to the floor behind him before he attacks the hem of my vest with the same enthusiasm and I'm quickly striped of the garment.

To my delight, the sight of my lacy bra renders him temporarily mesmerized, and I bounce on the balls of my feet to add to his enjoyment. I was worried, as I have been since I hit puberty, that my breasts are too small to satisfy my owner. But seeing the look on his face fills me with a newfound confidence. Master is kind even when he doesn't intend to be!

I gasp as Master gently runs a finger across the hard nub of my nipple; even through the fabric I'm incredibly sensitive there. A grin splits his face, and he rushes to unhook my bra. I barely manage to hide my giggle at his awkward attempts to undo the catch, leaning into and kissing his firm chest while he struggles.

My fingertips are just moving over his smooth flat stomach when he succeeds in releasing the catch, my bra joining the crumpled vest on the floor. He smiles at me sheepishly before pushing me down onto the bed. I sit at first, but soon his kisses have me laying on my back. With my arms stretched above my head I arch my spine, aching for him to play with my sensitive nipples again.

"Mmm...someone's impatient," Master says, breaking away from the kiss.

"I'm sorry Mast-" My words are cut short by the moan that escapes me as he sucks my whole nipple into his wet hot mouth. While lavishing one nipple with his tongue, he uses his hand to tweak the other, sending bewitching lightning bolts of pleasure shooting down my spine.

It doesn't seem like my chest is Master's intended destination though, because he's soon kissing his way down my stomach while undoing the top button of my shorts. I lift my hips as he starts to pull on the waistband and, moments later, I'm left wearing only a pair of very damp white panties.

I wiggle my hips in what I hope is a seductive way. It's so difficult to follow what I learned in the clinical lessons at the compound when my body is screaming out to be touched. It's so hard to focus when even the smallest change in my Master's posture has me shivering in eager anticipation.

"I want you to call me by my name," Master insists sternly, tucking his fingers into the waistband of my panties.

"I can't Master!" I protest, rotating my hips so that the slick fabric he's holding rubs against my core.

"Yes you can. No one has to know. I don't want to be your Master, Rose, I just want us to be together. Don't you want that?"

I look away, the phantom pain of every whip and cane stroke burning against my back and bottom. It feels like a monster is standing on my chest as my head spins with all the ways a girl like me can be punished. I feel paralyzed, unable to move or speak, but something Master said suddenly hits me. He wants us to be together; he wants me!

"I do...I mean I want us." I pause, taking a deep breath as our eyes meet. "I want to be with you... Dan."

He leans forward to kiss first my forehead then my lips. "Thank you." His voice is a hushed, "I know that was difficult."

I simply nod as he swiftly pulls down my panties. I close my eyes in trepidation, expecting to feel his hardness pushing at my entrance. I don't believe Master would hurt me on purpose, not even after I broke one of the overriding edicts in his presence. But I've been told it will hurt my first time and so, as I always do when I know pain is coming, I brace myself.

Something about my braced body must amuse my owner, because he chuckles. I feel the bed move, then gasp in surprise as I feel his hot breath against my inner thigh.

"I told you it was your turn," he teases, kissing my thighs gently.

I squirm, his gentle touches causing an almost painful yearning in my lower belly.

"So impatient," he laughs, running his tongue up my hot sex. My moan turns to a yelp of pleasure as he flicks the sensitive nub peeking out from under its hood. The sensation is unlike anything I could achieve with my own fingers and I melt into the bedclothes, putty in my Master's hands.

He explores my wet opening with his fingers while he licks and nips at my sensitive clit. The combined assault on my most intimate area is building within me a wave of pressure that longs to be let free. My breathing becomes ragged as I gasp and moan under his relentless attention.

"Oh! Oh eternal stars!" I squeal as he pushes me over the edge. Hot waves of pleasure ripple through my body, blurring my vision with their intensity. My hands cling to the sheets as I slowly come down from my orgasm, leaving me a gooey lump of contentment.

Instinctively, I wrap my arms around Master as he climbs on top of me, tasting my own juices on his lips as I kiss him lovingly. His hardness pokes my thigh and I adjust myself so that our bodies are aligned. I know what he wants to do; I want it too.

"Good girl," Master murmurs, sliding into my slick opening.

I close my eyes, expecting excruciating pain, but there's only the slightest of pressure, a gentle burn. He slowly starts to move, his thrusts cautious at first, before building into a steady rhythm. I nuzzle his neck while he fucks me, enjoying the new sensation and the closeness to my Master.

I rotate my pelvis in time with his thrusts, enjoying the look on his face as he draws near to his climax. My sex is still a little sensitive from my first orgasm, but I can feel the pressure building there again as I discover the most pleasurable positions for Master to enter me.

With a final grunt and a hard thrust, Master buries himself inside of me, his cock pulsing as he coats my womb with his seed. He stays on top of me until his breathing starts to return to normal and his member begins to soften.

"That was amazing," he says with a contented sigh, rolling off of me and onto his pillows.

"Yes Master!" I say happily, scooting over to cuddle against his side. "Umm Master?" I ask nervously.

"I told you," he groans, "Use my name."

I swallow hard, "Dan, may I go and clean myself up please? Your stuff, it's..." I gesture vaguely to my crotch where his still hot seed is slowly seeping out onto my thigh.

"Go," he laughs, "And thank you for using my name, you're a good girl."

Beaming with pride, I rush off to his bathroom.

When I return my owner is soundly asleep. Smiling to myself, I climb into bed beside him. Finding a comfortable position, I let myself drift off to sleep with the familiar feeling of a purr deep in my throat.

— — —

Dan

I wake from my impromptu nap with a smile on my face. Rose's naked form is draped over me, her cheek pressed against my chest. It's easy to see how the naturally submissive Lower Vil where enslaved by the first race that found them. Poor bastards probably tried to give the Vil a hug and ended up in chains about fifteen seconds later. I wonder what their culture was like before the Vil decided they needed 'protecting'?

Could the lower Vil even go back to how they were? They've been breed on Vil for generations and on earth for the last forty years, slowly losing their similarity to the scaled Vil in favour of a more human look. But the effects are skin deep, there's no escaping the fact that Rose enjoys being controlled. Even if it's only a guiding hand she seems to relax immediately - is that training or nature?

Nature seems the more obvious, if not depressing, answer.

Am I helping her when I tell her she's a good girl? The first time I said it was a mistake, but her reaction...I've never seen her so happy and proud, so pleased with herself. It feels wrong to praise her like a dog, but, on the other hand, if it makes her happy is it such a bad thing? Especially if I use it as a reward for independent behaviour. Perhaps to encourage her to act less like a slave I'm going to have to act a little more like a Master.

Absentmindedly stroking her cheek with the back of my fingers, I wonder how we ended up in bed together. We seem to have gone from first kiss to first fuck at roughly the speed of light. Earlier when she offered herself to me, I was afraid I was somehow forcing her, but based on her reactions she wanted me just as much as I wanted - still want - her. Not the timid Lower Vil that was given to me, but an equal, a lover.

As carefully as I can, I slip out from under my sleepy slave girl; she grumbles unhappily but doesn't wake. Content to let her rest, I head off to the bathroom, thoughts of our rapidly complicating relationship still bouncing around in my head.

After having a quick wash and changing into some loungewear, I return to find her wrapped around one of my pillows, her bare back exposed by the shifting covers. Her markings are truly beautiful; I doubt even a master tattoo artist could achieve such complex yet clean patterns, even with the aid of modern hand stabilizing technology.

Bewitched, I perch on the edge of the bed, using a fingertip to trace a path in her natural maze until she stirs under my touch and I guiltily pull my hand back, hoping she will fall back to sleep.

"Maze game?" she whispers, sounding hopeful.

"What's that?" I ask, silently cursing myself for waking her.

She jerks, her eyes flying open. "Master! I'm sorry, I thought you were one of my sisters."

I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she makes to sit up, "What's the maze game?"

"Oh." She seems a little taken aback, "It's something my sisters and I used to do, Master. A contest to see who can find the longest path in the markings."

"And who won?" I ask with a grin, finding a new route in her beautifully decorated back and following it with my finger.

"Me, Master," she replies proudly, a soft purr in her throat. "Dahlia found a path all the way from my neck to my..." she pauses, the visible portion of her cheek reddening, "to between my legs, Master."

"I look forward to following in Dahlia's noble steps," I say with a laugh. "Are you hung-" A knock on the door interrupts my question. I guess that means my family have returned from their respective jobs while we slept. Flicking the covers over Rose (who is trying hard not to show how disappointed she is that the game is over), I call for whoever's outside to enter.

"Dan." Jezebel strides in, a worried look on her face, the seriousness made somewhat comical by the ridiculousness of her outfit. Zack, dressed in a glittering suit, hovers in the corridor behind her, eyes fixed obediently on the floor. "You need to come downstairs, there's someone here about..." She gestures to the girl in my bed.

What could someone possibly want with Rose? My eyes move from her back to my sister before speaking. "Rose, shower and get dressed but stay up here, I'll be back for you soon."

"Yes, Master," she says promptly, scampering out from under the covers to hurry to the bathroom, not a care in the world that she's completely naked.

Rolling my eyes at the closing bathroom door I walk over to my sister. "Better go and see what this is about I guess?"